New
by Coffee Filters
Summary: A new regeneration. Rose won't remember this new self, so maybe...just maybe he can go see her without ruining a timeline. One-shot


The Doctor regenerates

**New**

He was a new man now. Different some would say, ever since the…well after another regeneration.

Yup. All new cells and new body, new hair (not ginger yet), new outfit. It was the Time Lord Cycle he knew so well, and yet…

He didn't want to do it. He was a little attached to the former regeneration. It was, after all, the last image she had of him. The last him she knew, even though she saw him in another persona before. This new body, filled with new cells and features, was alien to her. Well "alien" in the non-literal sense of the word. But he was alien in the literal sense too.

He was different. If the two had met again, Rose wouldn't be able to be so comfortable with him. Her eyes wouldn't light up with recognition when she saw him, and her mind wouldn't swirl with memories just by looking at him. This body was a stranger to her, and that thought worried him. Being a stranger to someone he…well, someone he knew wasn't comfortable. He didn't want to be treated with indifference and forced manners.

He was just different. Different from what she remembered him to be, which was probably why he chose to see her, allowed himself to see her. He couldn't ruin any timelines just by seeing her. Granted, she wouldn't know that this was him. He would be able to watch her without any consequence, and none would be the wiser. It was one of the positives to this new body, and one of his favorite loopholes.

The Doctor sat nonchalantly, not swinging his legs or whistling. He refused to fiddle. Instead he sat on the low, stone wall, refusing to move, while the world around him bustled and rambled on. Cars, buses, and taxis vroomed by, picking up or dropping off passengers at sidewalks. People walked about him. Voices buzzed, bells rang, motors hummed, and the Doctor sat.

Instead he watched. He watched as a crowd of school children in uniform walked past him, skipping and jumping as they followed their tour guide. He sat and watched as a few businessmen walked stride-for-stride across the street, talking to each other, joking. And he sat and watched as he caught a glimpse of the familiar.

He sat and watched her look both ways across the street. He smiled. She hadn't changed much: same long, blonde hair; same large eyes; same Rose Tyler that traveled with him all those years ago.

He didn't want to tell Jack that he was here. Instead, he told him some Time Lord-esque excuse that the Captain lapped up and dismissed as easily as he did many other things. Instead, Jack headed off for some place he remembered from his past that had the best something or other, the Doctor barely listened as he headed in the opposite direction. Nine o'clock, they agreed, was enough time for them to go about their business and for the TARDIS to recharge.

The Doctor shifted in his seat. He didn't want anyone with him at the moment.

He watched as she dug through her purse to pay for a coffee she had just bought.

She pulled out her mobile and made her way towards him.

Panicked, he looked around, searching for a place nearby where he could hide. But he didn't have to obviously nor did he didn't want to. He wanted to see her.

She sat a few feet nearby, on the same wall, dialing on her mobile with her right hand while taking a few sips from the foam mug with the other.

He turned back to face forward: He couldn't watch her (that would come off as strange and very creepy) and he was trying to blend in this time. Instead he listened as she began to talk. "Mum? Hi…" Her accent was so familiar, and he smiled as he remembered the last time he heard her voice. The last words she had said to him.

He leaned back to face the sun and listen: Just listen. Eyes closed he allowed his mind to wander. He remembered the last time he saw her at Bad Wolf Bay. She told him what he already knew, but he never tired of replaying that memory in his mind. Through the sobs and bursts of emotion came out the simple words, a confession: "I love you." Rose Tyler. His companion. The mere thought of that made him smile wider.

"Excuse me?" a familiar accent piped up, interrupting his thoughts. The Doctor knew that voice.

He tilted his head and looked at her. Squinting, he couldn't really make her out as the sun came up from behind her. It was blinding really, his eyes were new and all.

"I'm sorry," she apologized gently, and he could see the play of emotions transfer over her face from impatience to regret. She smiled politely, "I'm sorry to bother you, but do you have the time?"

He was listening to her voice and accent before actually letting her words digest. Rose Tyler was talking to him. Same voice and lilt. So much for the blending in plan. He frowned at that.

She mistook his look and repeated—"The time? My mobile just died, and I was s'pose to meet my mum at four. But I don't carry a watch…"

He looked at her confused, off guard. He blinked his eyes into focus until he could make her out clearly. She had the same round face and wide smile. Her hands were busy with her coffee and mobile; he remembered a time he held them. Through thick and thin they held hands as they ran away from some of the worst the galaxies had to offer, and at the time he hadn't thought that they'd ever be as separated as they were right then. But he shook his head as if to bring him back to the present; and with the infinite knowledge of time and space, endless encounters with Daleks, and a scuffle or two with Shakespeare within his fingertips, the Doctor eloquently replied to the girl he already knew but who knew nothing of him: "Sorry—what?"

No politeness or excuses. Very blunt, and rude sounding. He was rude? Was he rude now in this new body? He really hoped not.

She smiled, embarrassed, he remembered that look. "Sorry. I was babbling. Do you have the time?"

He smirked at that. Time. Funny that she should ask. He had all the time in the world. (Well, in any part of any galaxy really).

"Wha—" he began, struck dumb by the situation. She gave him a tight, polite smile, and he shook his head again to gather his thoughts. "Sorry," he apologized, and without looking at a watch, mobile, or any other time device he replied matter-of-factly, "Of course, it's a quarter to three." It really was, and the Doctor didn't need a watch to tell him so, but Rose kept the tight smile plastered to her face and nodded unbelievingly.

"Thanks," she said courteously, eyebrow lifted up suspiciously, she began to walk away.

The Doctor frowned as he watched her leave. That was it? This was their reunion, even though only one of them knew it, and this was all that they would leave with: the time. There had to be an irony in that, the Doctor thought searchingly.

No, he didn't feel light or jocular at the moment. It was a very abrupt ending, almost unsatisfactory, and for some odd reason he didn't want that note to be the last impression of her. The scene at Bad Wolf Bay was never really finished either, it ended before he could say anything back. Without a warning, the two saw the last of each other, but this second chance was under his control. Rose didn't need to know who he really was, and he didn't need to tell her. As far as he could tell, he wasn't tampering with the timelines.

He wasn't sure what it was. The sun in his eyes, the smile she gave him, or the abruptness of this ending; but something inside of him made him want to stop her. It was one of those now or never moments he lived for.

"Sorry," he got up, catching her in only a few strides. His new body had rather long legs.

She turned around, surprise written all over her face, her eyebrows raised in disbelief.

He cleared his throat and readied his new voice. He grasped the sonic screwdriver in the pocket of his coat. "Sorry. But did you say that your mobile's broken?"

Rose looked up at him and smiled, genuinely.

_Yeah that's it. Thanks for reading._


End file.
